"Vic." Marie said one night as they sat on Marie's bed in her flat. "Vic, let's do something stupid."
Victoire paused, her tongue sticking slightly out of her mouth in concentration as she painted the toenails of her left foot a vibrant scarlet. "Like what?" Victoire was curious, in spite of herself. "We're not getting tattoos." She warned her sister, referring to an episode in which Marie and Dominique had gotten tattoos together.
Marie giggled, and touched up the gold paint on her pinky. "Oh, don't worry. That's not what I had in mind at all."
Victoire shot a Drying spell at her feet and recapped the scarlet. "What did you have in mind, then?"
Marie turned to stare straight at her sister, taking advantage of her big, blue eyes. Marie smiled. "Have you ever gone clubbing?"
Victoire was disappointed. "Mar, there are only three clubs in all of England. We'll be recognized. It won't be fun."
Marie shook her head. "No, no, Vic. Real clubbing. Muggle clubbing. Come on, don't tell me you've never wanted to shag a stranger? We'll get pissed, meet some good-looking guys, shag them, and never see them again."
It was weird how Marie had the ability to know people's deep, dark, hidden desires before they even knew, themselves. Victoire suddenly found herself realizing that she did in fact want to shag a stranger. One thing stopped her.
"Teddy." Victoire said. "What about Teddy?"
Marie shrugged, carelessly. "Aren't you guys fighting again?"
Victoire played with a pleat in the coverlet. "Yeah. We are." She said in a small voice.
"See?" Marie smiled. "It doesn't matter. He'll forgive you anyway."
And that is how Victoire found herself in Muggle London with her sister standing outside a club, from which music was blaring.
"I'm your cousin!" Marie shouted over the noise. "My name's Marguerite and I'm your sexy French cousin. Get that? And I speak English with an accent."
Victoire laughed. "Alright. I'll be the boring British cousin. What should my name be?"
Marie smiled. "You can be Cordelia."
Victoire snorted. "You've got to be joking. Cordelia, really? I'll be Helen."
Marie rolled her eyes. "Fine, fine, whatever. Remember that we're Muggles, though." She led her sister through the back and plunged them into the club.
Victoire grabbed Marie, who glistened with sweat. "Mar, come on. I'm thirsty." Marie let her sister drag off the dance floor, and up to the bar. They sat down on barstools, side by side.
"What do you recommend?" Victoire asked Marie, eyeing all the unfamiliar names of Muggle drinks.
Marie frowned. "Muggle alcohol stinks." She said, flatly. "But go for a Bloody Mary. That's not too bad."
Victoire placed their order. "Two Bloody Marys, please." She said. She sat back down on the barstool beside Marie.
Two guys came over to introduce themselves. One had chocolate skin, short-cropped brown hair, and a diamond stud in one ear. The other had gently tanned skin and black dreads. "I'm John and this is Steven." Said Dreads.
Victoire and Marie did their silent sister thing. Marie called dibs on Steven.
"You two are the best looking girls in the club." Steven said.
Victoire didn't know how to react to such a cheesy pick-up line. If James had said it, she would have slapped him. Marie giggled, setting down her empty glass.
"Yoou arrre zo fawny." She said, flashing her bright, white teeth. Both men looked a little taken back.
"You aren't British?" John asked.
Victoire jumped in with explanations, setting down her half-empty glass. "I am. I'm Helen. This is my cousin, Marguerite from France. She's visiting."
When Victoire woke up in a strange place the next morning, she cursed Marie. But it was a good-natured cursing. She had had fun.
